


Pilgrims' Hands

by bossbeth



Series: Inktober 2018 [7]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/F, Human Kara Danvers, Short & Sweet, SuperCorp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-29 09:53:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16261778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bossbeth/pseuds/bossbeth
Summary: Kara needs Lena's help running lines, and maybe practicing a kiss or two...





	Pilgrims' Hands

**Author's Note:**

> For Inktober, I'm writing short SuperCorp fics in solidarity with my wife drawing every day. Expect fluff and horn in equal measures. If you're reading this during the month of October in 2018, [I'm still taking prompts at my tumblr!](https://bossbeth.tumblr.com/ask)
> 
> Anon prompted, "lena and kara are in the highschool play but there's not enough dudes so one of them has to play romeo, and the other gets cast as juliet, and the script includes a kissing scene. so i guess it's like a theatre geek AU?"
> 
> I got 500 words into the last chapter of Supernurse AU when I realized it was not a fic I wanted to write when writing felt like pulling teeth, and tried this one instead. Thank you for the prompt, anon, and apologies for not doing it justice - I just want to post so I can go to bed tbh. I was a techie in high school so I changed it on that point…

Miss Grant was a drama teacher with a keen flair for drama. Most theater teachers spend their time trying to keep teen angst contained - but Miss Grant seemed to much prefer to stoke it.

Lena wondered if maybe she had figured at some point it was better entertainment than every streaming service online combined, and just cut the cord. Why bother with the fake stuff when you could engineer the most ridiculous conflict with a few precise castings?

For example: what if, for shits and giggles, you decided to do a little outreach for Spring Shakespeare? And cast half the sports teams in the school as Montagues?

Midvale High was a girl’s-only institution with a robust volleyball and soccer program, and where there were athletes, there were young women eager for easy classes to keep their GPA up and their credits well-rounded. Miss Grant’s pitch was pretty straight forward: for this semester, participation alone would get an A. And just like that, she had a mob of Montagues.

Losing half the roles to people who didn’t even care about the proud heritage of Midvale Spring Shakespeare was a blow to the more seasoned thespians. But Lena didn’t really care. She was sort of on Miss Grant’s side: the people watching was much better this way. And besides, now she didn’t have to be prodded to audition. Her skills could just be used elsewhere.

Lena has loved costume design since she first learned of the concept. Shaping the way characters were perceived through their dress? Telling narratives in clothing? For four Halloweens running, she had dressed as Edith Head. (And she hoped to god that the fifth time around, no one would ask ‘Are you that chick from The Incredibles?’)

There were other benefits to costuming.

Like touching girls.

That sounded creepy, so very creepy, and Lena didn’t want to be gross, didn’t mean to be a big fucking pervert. But it was fascinating to see girls’ bodies so up close, with no expectation or implication, just practical measuring and fitting and helping with quick changes.

It wasn’t even that Lena wanted any of them in particular. Lena just wanted.

Well, maybe some she wanted in particular.

Kara Danvers was a soccer player, and looked every inch of it. Tall and broad and blonde and always faintly sunburned, she played goalie, and she was stupidly good at it. They had gone to the same middle school, and Kara had never not played goalie, at school and over the summer. Her hands were broad, and up close she had freckles, and she tended to have bruises all up and down her hips, and it wasn’t weird that Lena knew all these things. She just… noticed.

And who couldn’t notice Kara? After the first round of casting, there was no question - she was Romeo, bold and brash and overzealous and charismatic.

Even Siobhan - a lifer, student director for the upcoming summer musical, and Juliet - had to admit, “Ugh, she’s one of those. A jock who can actually act.”

But Lena knew Kara’s secret. She did have a natural ability for the stage - there was an energy around her that was undeniable. But memorization was something else altogether.

Kara knew the trick of learning something new. Practice. Lots of practice. As soon as possible, as much as possible, on the field when you can.

And that’s where Lena found her, every day after classes until they locked her out of the building - on stage, getting used to the space, the room, and the script in her hand.

“ – If I profane with my unworthiest hand,” Lena heard from the stage as she worked on doublets on Monday.

“This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this,” came down from the cat walk as Lena spray-painted ten pairs of boots to a matching brown on Tuesday.

“My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand,” paired with grunts from practicing rapier lunges while Lena finished some hand-sewn badges on Wednesday.

“To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss…” Thursday found Kara sitting at the edge of the stage, feet drumming against the boards, and sighing dramatically as Lena moved backstage. “Hey, Lena.”

Lena looked up, smiling, but kept pace to the wings, when, “Lena?”

Kara’s voice was curious enough to give Lena pause. “Yeah?”

“This would be easier with someone to read with.”

Lena rolled her eyes, but Kara gave that smile, the same stupid smile that had been making Lena blush since they were in the seventh grade.

“Fine. But I have to go feather, like, a million hats, so just one scene, okay?”

“Perfect.” Kara pat the spot on the edge of the stage next to her.

Lena sat, and waved when Kara offered the script. This was the introduction - she didn’t need a script. She let the words out in exaggerated iambic pentameter. “Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much…”

Lena had heard the words - read the words - a million times. It was such a stupid romance - infatuation, really. Love wasn’t running into someone and immediately wanted to sit on them - that was lust.

Love was something else.

But it was still a pretty bit of dialogue.

She had spent the whole scene staring sightlessly at the audience, schooling her heart, trying so hard to not be a creep, not be a pervert, not to notice the faint sound of Kara’s mouth as it gave shape to the words or the warmth of her fingers where they just touched hers flat on the stage between them. It was just running lines. Don’t be a creep. Don’t be gross -

“You kiss by the book,” said Lena, flopping back on the stage like Kara had before.

Kara fell back a moment later, and Lena heard and felt her roll on her side a little closer.

Lena knew if she looked at Kara, she would do something stupid.

“I was hoping,” said Kara, dragging out the word, “to practice the, uh, that whole bit, too.” She slapped the script. “By the book, you know.”

Lena stared at her, feeling her face flush. Was this a joke? Some sort of trick?

Sensing her ambivalence, Kara reach out and brushed a lock of hair off Lena’s cheek. “I just did this play as an excuse to talk to you, y’know.”

Lena laughed, feeling faintly hysterical. “That’s impossible.”

Kara blushed right back, crinkle forming between her eyes. “You always do this sort of thing. Theater and stuff. Soccer doesn’t impress you.”

Lena definitely felt hysterical now. “And you think the way you fill a doublet does impress me?”

“I do look good in tights.” Kara laughed, and leaned closer, and had her eyes always been so blue? “So, can I? Kiss you?”

Okay, thought Lena, then remembered she had to say it out loud. “Okay.”

Your first kiss with your future wife during Romeo and Juliet made for a pretty good story. Lena always loved Miss Grant’s flair for drama.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr as bossbeth!


End file.
